This warm and inviting nook in the heart of Soho manages to be both authentically Spanish and admirably cliché-free (apart from the giant hams dangling from the ceiling).
Unusual flavours, as at Beagle's high-end sibling, are a signature. Corn on the cob was rubbed with flowery-scented meadowsweet, which permeated the butter. Hispi cabbage had an unusual taste that turned out to be clover. Harvester this is not.
Tables stripped planks; plates are enamelled, some seats are oil drums. But wait a minute, isn’t this the latest venture from Ollie Dabbous, a chef so cutting edge he could probably chop down a wild elderberry shrub with his bare hands while out foraging.